One Last Day in Paradise
by AngelinaWeasley1
Summary: A collection of stories about various characters from the wizarding world and their experiences after Dumbledore's death. Post HBP. Rating for future 'chapters'.
1. Beneath the Surface

Disclaimer: All of these characters, and the whole Harry Potter franchise, belong to JKR.

A/N: Okay, so I am finally back… but not really. To my readers of **I Never Lived**, I apologize. Let me take the time to say that it is on temporary hiatus. I discovered that I do not like my original plot for the story and wonder if I should continue writing it. I could not stay away from FF too long however, and so while I decide what to do with that story I shall write others!

This fic, the first in a short collection, is about Malfoy and Snape, two characters I adore. It hit me the other night coming from nowhere, and it is short. I personally do not think either one is evil and attempt to convey that without seeming unrealistic. Malfoy is definitely misguided and a product of his environment, while Snape _is _more complex. He's not as cruel as Voldemort but he's not as kind as Dumbledore was. As a rule, I say he's good (for reasons I don't want to explain here), but he certainly follows his own path. Take what you will of this one-shot! I just had to put something out there. It takes place right after Snape murdered the headmaster and ran.

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One Last Day in Paradise**

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**Beneath the Surface**

There was nothing but silence between them. At a certain point past the Hogwarts gates and about east of Hogsmeade, they had parted ways with the other Death Eaters. Snape had been a quiet, intimidating figure as he told them it was best if the group split up, with a look on his face that no one dared argue with.

"Go to the Dark Lord as quickly as possible," he ordered, "I will take the boy. We will arrive shortly thereafter. And do not make yourselves known!"

The old Draco Malfoy would have viciously contested to being referred to as a boy, but the new one merely stared at the dark ground, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Fifteen minuets later Severus Snape was still the imposing figure, walking ahead of Lucius & Narcissa's son and walking swiftly. Draco followed obediently, having not said a word since he was at Hogwarts what seemed like lightyears ago. Now, however, he felt like speaking, even though he knew it were likely better to remain quiet. How could he not say something after what they had just been through! Dumbledore dead! Yes, that had been the plan all year, but to see it actually carried out…

The blond wondered what was happening back at his former school of six years. And former it was, for even if by some monstrous miracle that the castle _did _reopen in September, Draco did not even entertain the idea of returning. A normal teenager in his position would have been saddened, but he was not normal and never had been. Had he been allowed to be?

"I couldn't do it," he exclaimed after 20 minutes of neither Slytherin speaking. Draco clearly saw his professor's shoulders tighten and hunch up—a sign he was annoyed. He knew Snape preferred him to utter nothing, yet he also knew the man _expected _him to.

"_That_ was obvious, Mr. Malfoy," he answered, continuing to trudge on.

"I thought I could," Draco muttered, "I _should_ have been able to. But then the old man started talking, saying nonsense words! 'I can help you Draco'."

Snape was grateful to be walking in front of his pupil so his face was obscured. He closed his eyes as a pained expression crossed his features that conveyed aggravation as well.

"It wasn't just my life on the line; it was my mother and father's as well. At some point I realized h-he would kill not only me if I failed, but my parents too," the blond dully said, "He never said it, but I knew…. I was right in thinking so, wasn't I professor?"

"You are beginning to blab pointlessly, Draco! And do not call me professor any longer." Snape snapped, mentally agreeing with the young wizard.

"Maybe he still will. He'll think I didn't want to do it. I didn't do what I was told…"

"No, but the deed is done! Dumbledore is dead so rid the worry from your mind!" the older wizard countered, ceasing his walk and turning rapidly to face Malfoy.

"Yes, but _you_ did it!" Draco told him. They glowered at one another in the still.

The once Seeker broke first after a full minute of their glaring.

"Why couldn't I go _through _with it!" he demanded, clenching his fists and shutting his eyes. They both knew the answer to that question but did not voice it.

Snape slowly turned back around, the boy disappearing from view.

"And why did you?" Draco pondered.

"It had to be done," the teacher mumbled, "And, I… I—"

"Promised my mother."

Snape fought the urge to glance back at Malfoy. What was done was done. Feeling no need to explain himself, Snape began walking once more.

"We're going to him, aren't we?" asked Draco, a tinge of fear in his voice. The older man did not respond.

"Couldn't… couldn't I go h-home?" he continued.

"The Dark Lord will know of what happened, so it is not wise—"

"Not for long! Just a bit… to see, Mother…"

The old Potions master cleared his throat uncomfortably and then answered hurriedly:

"We will see. It all depends… perhaps."

They went through a short period of silence again before Draco spoke up once more.

"Did you enjoy killing Dumbledore? Have you killed before?" These inquiries threw Snape completely off track, rendering him speechless for a short while.

"I-I… you—what—"

"Do you think it will all be worth it? When the Dark Lord triumphs? _If_ he does…" At this the elder Slytherin whirled around, alarming the younger. His eyes were livid and his nostrils flared.

"You are touching upon very serious subjects, Mr. Malfoy! Ones you do _not _know _anything _about and should keep out of your mouth—out of your _head_," he half-snarled, "You are a Death Eater now! Be aware of what you think and say, _always_!"

Upon seeing that Draco had stepped away from him and looked like he was ready to sink to the ground, Snape's demeanor changed. He gave a frustrated sigh.

"It does not matter what I think, Draco," he quietly noted, "I am in the Dark Lord's service. Everything we do is with him in mind, to guarantee his success."

"But do you ever… _wonder_?" the boy timidly finished. Snape looked at him sharply, letting him know he was treading dangerous waters again, and he dropped his gray eyed gaze.

"You are young. You are confused. You know very little. This… _war_, what is going on right now, is extremely complex. And dangerous. You must _strategize _in order to stay alive. _That _is what is most important when it comes down to it—staying _alive_." The Half-Blood Prince put his back to Draco yet again. Malfoy watched him through slanted eyes as he continued to speak, though it were as though he had forgotten Malfoy was there.

"You'll find allegiances and loyalties become complicated when your back is against the cauldron. Boundaries fade. You cannot trust anyone, but yourself. Things are not always clearly defined, Mr. Malfoy. There is always… always a…a, _gray_, area, as… _Muggles_ say—always something in between. And knowing this may make all the difference in the world."

Silence once more, for a much longer span of time.

Then, comprehension dawned on Draco. Right as he opened his mouth to speak, Snape committed the act first.

"Come. We have dwindled too long." He resumed his rapid walk once more and Malfoy started, hastening to follow.

"I… I couldn't do it," the blond lamely stated. This was not what he had wanted to say.

"That is something you will have to explain to the Dark Lord."

Draco looked at the back of Snape's head. For some reason, he was not as scared as he had been mere minutes ago. Snape would be there with him, and Draco now knew that they felt the same way.

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A/N: There. Like I said, take of it what you will. And it's been awhile since I read HP6, so if anything is incorrect I apologize. 


	2. Façade

A/N: This is the second fic in the collection, **One Last Day in Paradise**. I have two more in mind, so, we'll see how many I can create. This one focuses on the trio, but from Hermione's point of view. She analyzes her feelings and emotions, trying to explain them to herself. Cheers :)

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** Façade… **

_Tomorrow is the eve of the wedding, _she mentally noted, as she sat on the sofa with her legs curled underneath her body and her hands holding a mug of warm tea.

It was nearing two o'clock in the morning on a summer day and Hermione Granger had yet to go to sleep. Everyone else in the Burrow was slumbering peacefully, she assumed, and here she was on one of the Weasleys' sofas, experiencing insomnia. This was not a new thing, however; the young witch had been having difficulty with sleeping for the past few days.

Hermione shifted a bit, taking a sip of the liquid, and was immobile once more. _Wait—_today _is the eve of the wedding. It's two in the morning Hermione, use your head_, she thought wryly to herself. Yes, tomorrow was the big day—the day that Bill Weasley was to be wed to Fleur Delacour.

This was the event that had been the main focus of the Weasley clan for the past fortnight, but especially Molly. It kept everyone involved constantly busy and moving, and even gave a sense of happiness. Consequently, to some this happiness was forced and a false cover-up of their true feelings, and Hermione was one who felt this way. Their union was undoubtedly a wonderful happening that deserved to be joyous, but the Muggleborn felt that it was _too _cheerful, violently blocking out all other emotions, especially negative ones. It was as though the wedding _refused _to let one think darkly and to Hermione this was not fair, realistic, or possible. Fleur and Bill alone could not cover up the fact that Albus Dumbledore was dead, the wizarding world was in turmoil, and Voldemort was at large.

A little more than two weeks had gone by since the headmaster's funeral. That seemed to be the last time anyone had known peace, in any sense of the word. The wizard known as You-Know-Who glorified in the fact that his second mortal enemy was deceased, and his joy was evident through rampant, destructive Death Eater activity. One down, one to go. Severus Snape and the Malfoys had not been seen or heard since that time either, much to the chagrin of many (especially a green-eyed boy).

The Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, was beside himself for many reasons. The darkest sorcerer of the age was having a field day, his citizens were both terrified and furious in knowing this & demanded he take action, and he feared the entire political system, because of the chaos, was teetering between either an outright dictatorship, to _stop _the panicking, or anarchy _from _the panicking! And to add to that, he had _still _yet to speak with Harry Potter! Scrimgeour _knew _something of the utmost importance concerning Voldemort was discussed between Dumbledore and Potter before the old man perished; the boy was the Chosen One for Merlin's sake! The Minister was dying to know. He had half a mind to arrest the teenager and drag him into his office since the Gryffindor would not come of his own accord, but knew this would be the father of all mistakes.

If there was any good news, it was that a week after Dumbledore's funeral two Death Eaters were apprehended. Of course, it _was _the doing of the Order of the Phoenix, and the pair killed itself shortly thereafter rather than speak. But that meant two less of Voldemort's minions. Hermione sighed, thinking of the Order. It was as active as ever, though understandably crippled and devastated by the murder of its leader. McGonagall and Remus Lupin stepped up to take his place, though by no means did they assume his title. The group simply needed direction.

_They've had no real time to mourn, or sort everything out—sort their _feelings _out. None of us have. Voldemort has seen to that, _the girl thought. She looked into her mug, finished the tea off, and set it down on the floor. Feelings. Hers were completely shot and jumbled. A loud meow issued from around the corner and Crookshanks then came swaggering into the room. His owner gave a worn smile and patted the cushion next to her, motioning for him. He obeyed and jumped onto the sofa, then looked pointedly at Hermione. It was as if he was not happy with his accommodation and wanted her to know.

Yes, the Burrow _was _insanely full of people. All eight Weasleys (excluding Percy), Fleur, her younger sister, Hermione, and Arthur's remaining brother, Abel. Fleur's parents had not resided with the Weasleys but that was to change this very day.

"And Harry," she murmured. Of course, Harry— he was there as well. She looked at her pet, "What? I tried to leave you at home for once and you wouldn't hear of it."

Hermione had gone back to her parents after the term at Hogwarts ended (permanently, she feared) for one week. As much as she loved her mother and father, seven days away from her magical life was enough. She had worried fretfully over what was happening and over her loved ones. Especially Ron and Harry. When she finally arrived at the Burrow, for Merlin knew how long _this _summer, the wedding festivities had begun to commence and she was alone.

Frankly speaking, Harry was not alongside her or already there.

Immediately she knew this summer was going to be the most difficult to get through, and the most awkward. The instant she saw Ron making his way towards her, wearing a shy, uncertain smile and fidgeting his hands nervously, her stomach clenched. He took her in his arms, oddly at first, and was the last Weasley to embrace her. His hold tightened, however; she hugged him in return, already feeling rushed and confused emotions for him crashing down on her. After their interlude (in which the Weasleys had busied themselves in order to give the two privacy), Ron looked into her face and moved some of her hair behind her ear.

"Y-You're all right?" he had wondered. Hermione nodded, knowing this was a lie and the truth.

"Mum wanted to get you here as soon as possible, to know you were all right and keep you under her eye!" The redhead gave a laugh that wouldn't have sounded so broken in earlier years, and looked to the kitchen where Molly was.

"Ron," the Muggleborn began, relieved in being in his company and seeing he was okay, "Where's Harry? I haven't spoken to him since… we got off the Express." Half of her soul was content with Ron—the other half, _Harry's _half—was desperate.

"Nor have I," he responded, looking at her again. The sorrow in his voice became apparent.

"Oh, is he all right? Is he still with the Dursleys?," Her eyes took on a frantic gleam, "He… he wouldn't have left us! Already! Would he?..." She was pulling his hand in earnest.

It hurt to see her like this because it was just a mirror of his feelings and he could not do much to appease her. She worried over Harry so much. And… there would always be that tiny portion of jealousy for Ron that stung as well.

"I'm sure he's still at his uncle's, Hermione. He… Harry wouldn't just leave… not yet. He'll be 17 soon enough anyway, and then he can leave for good." Ron told her. The witch's eyes dropped to the floor.

"He's coming here, though, so there's a reason to stay."

"When? I thought you said you hadn't spoken—"

"Mum wrote you both to come. He responded to her. He's coming this week. In the next day or two."

Hermione didn't reply, still concerned but much more at ease.

"It'll be interesting huh?" he pondered, looking at Ginny and Charlie.

"What?"

"Between Ginny and Harry." She followed his gaze and stared at the sole daughter of the family. Yes, he had ended their relationship, hadn't he? Ginny _must _be hurting, no matter how she tried not to show it. She had cared for him for years—since she was _11_. Hermione frowned.

_She'll manage fine, _a superior voice insider her head noted, _Harry had his reasons for breaking it off, no doubt valid_.

The brunette felt pressure on her right hand; she glanced down and saw it was still in Ron's, and that he had squeezed it. She hadn't even realized she hadn't released it. He smiled at her, for plenty of reasons, and all she could do was smile back helplessly. Oh yes—awkward.

Hermione winced as she unfolded her legs and let them hang in front of her. They had been in that position for too long and were now asleep. She decided to take the empty mug into the kitchen to exercise them and get the blood circulating again. As she picked the cup up and Crookshanks meowed once more, she resumed her train of thought.

It had been odd to be alone with Ron for there was (now) something between them that could not be denied, something that had come out during sixth year. Oh, it had always existed, but the past year had been its time to make its mark. (Hermione felt embarrassed when she currently thought about their last year at Hogwarts. She had acted childishly and foolishly, not like herself. But Ron often made her feel not like herself, didn't he)? Because of what they had gone through, she felt being alone in his presence was difficult. She could _feel _a long-waited force expecting something to happen between the two—so could Ron. Their glances would turn into gazes, their looks into stares. Touches would linger for too long, eliciting butterflies in the stomach. And the idea of being close to one another's face was un_thinkable_. So, to avoid it, she tried to stray away from being alone with her best friend.

And it was pitiful really! Well, at least to Hermione…. Isn't this what she had wanted since third year? Isn't this why she was jealous of Lavender? Didn't she want _Ron_? She was supposed to! All of those years of heated fighting—it had been their feelings for each other in disguise! So what was wrong with her now? Had she really expected it to happen? Was she afraid of the prospect of actually being with Ron? Was it something else? Some_one_ else?

"Harry, as usual," muttered Hermione, as she stood over the sink and put the mug in.

She had been exuberant to see Harry come into the Burrow escorted by Remus Lupin & Tonks one full day after she had arrived. It did her heart well to see her other best friend, the one who gave her an entirely different kind of grief, in once piece. She threw herself on him as Ron came bounding down the stairs, beaming. Yes, Harry was the answer.

They could not be together right now, for his sake; it wouldn't in any sense be right. He needed them as _friends_, not a couple. Their relationship would complicate things for the trio's friendship and probably leave Harry feeling somewhat isolated, something he _certainly _did not need at the moment. The timing would be horrendous.

With Harry finally at the Weasley home as well, Hermione expected for her emotions to settle down and right themselves a bit; his presence would buffer her feelings and thoughts about Ron to a minimum. This, however, had not proven itself to be the case. Harry brought with him more tangled emotions that were not needed. He seemed to epitomize what the entire wizarding world was going through and at times, it felt as if Hermione could not bear to look at him or else cry. He did not deserve to be the 'Chosen One' and be so burdened.

Harry also made her feel guilty when she did think about Ron. She felt as if she shouldn't out of respect for him, but couldn't help it. These thoughts did not last too long however, for Harry would creep into them eventually and befuddle them all. He made Hermione and Ron more uneasy around each other than they had been before he came for the wedding as well. It seemed as though he expected them to carry out their feelings for each other and wanted to let them know it was all right by him, but they held back, whatever their reasons. This often led to silences and uncomfortable glances that were the theme of the summer—awkward. These moments weren't _too _frequent, on the other hand, and usually happened when nothing was being said for a long period of time amongst the three. It was then that they were reminded of the possible Ron, Hermione relationship and the fact that it could not be ignored forever.

Hermione knew why she didn't want to act on anything, but wasn't sure about Ron. Did he take Harry's "blessing" to heart and want to move forward, but wouldn't because _he _had no idea how _she _felt? Had Harry and Ron _spoken_ about this issue and she not known? It was very probable. They were best friends, slept in the same room, and were together more often than not. The Muggleborn was not going to ask Ron anything for fear that the answer to these would be yes, that's what he was waiting for—her. It would break her heart to explain to Ron her hesitancy and see his self-doubt, embarrassment, and anger form, for they no doubt would. He wouldn't understand that it wasn't him stopping her, it was the _timing_… or maybe he would understand. Was she giving him a fair chance?

And then there were those unexplained feelings Harry extracted in her that she could not place, the ones that showed up whenever Ginny was in the room.

The ex-couple's first meeting had occurred a few hours after The Boy Who Lived had come to the Burrow. He was talking to Ron and motioning with his hands as the three were walking out into the backyard, and nearly hit an off-guard Ginny, headed for the house alongside George, with a fierce gesture. His hand stopped mid-air as she drew her head back, and he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"Watch where you flail those things, Harry!" laughed George, patting him on the shoulder and walking around the group. Ron cleared his throat and glanced at Hermione as his sister and best friend looked at one another.

She spoke first.

"Harry. Here finally, are you?" Her voice was even and sounded good-natured. Hermione, a fellow female talented at glossing over true emotions, knew this was painful for the redheaded girl.

"Er… yeah. All right, Ginny?" he responded, continuing to stare at her.

"Of course. Well, I have to deal with being Fleur's bridesmaid and that can be hell sometimes, but at least I'm not Bill yeah?" She gave a small laugh that sounded genuine. Hermione was suddenly, inexplicably, ready to have her out of their presence; she had an urge to steer Harry clear of his ex-girlfriend.

The raven haired teenager opened his mouth to say something at the same time as Gabrielle ran out of the Burrow, calling for Ginny.

"_Ta mère__ te veut_, Ginerva," she relayed. She then saw Harry and blushed, "_Bonjour_, 'Arry." (The first time Gabrielle had seen Harry she was overcome and ended up weeping embarrassingly). He nodded at her in acknowledgment.  
"Mum wants me, then," Ginny noted, rolling her eyes, "That means I'll be occupied for at least two hours. I'll see you lot later, maybe." She then walked off with the younger Delacour daughter, who looked back and grinned. When they were gone, Ron and Hermione looked at Harry simultaneously.

"What?" he questioned a bit gruffly and returning their gaze.

"Nothing, mate! Nothing. Come on. You were saying?" Ron interjected.

The next night in Ginny's room, while Gabrielle was sleeping heavily, Ginny came to Hermione teary-eyed and ready to talk about Harry. She admitted it was damn hard being under the same roof as him after their breakup, and expressed her desire for them to be together again.

"I _know _Harry, and he won't think of it until this… this You-Know-_Who_, business is over with!," she sobbed. _I know him too, and have longer_, Hermione surprisingly thought in a bitter voice, "He says he's doing it for me, but I don't care! I'll risk it!"

"But he won't, Ginny, and that makes all the difference," Hermione told her quietly, "You know how Harry is about protecting the people he cares for." The redhead looked away defiantly, eyes brimming with tears.

"I waited so _long _for Harry."

"I know, Ginny. I, of all people, know."

"And what if it ended at the funeral? What if he doesn't _want_ to get back together? I don't think I could handle that Hermione, not after having him! What if Harry doesn't… doesn't—"

"Doesn't _what_?" the brunette wondered, sensing what her friend was trying to say and not liking it.

"Doesn't _live_! That thought is so _horrible_, Hermione, but I can't stop it!" the ex-Chaser said.

"You're not the only one Ginny!," she snapped in response, "_All _of us who care about Harry have thought that! It's terrifying! You just can't focus on it or else you'll break down." There was silence for awhile as Ginny collected herself. With one final sniff, she stated:

"I just _miss _him, Hermione. That's all."

After that night the Muggleborn's unexplainable feelings for Harry made themselves terribly known, much more than ever before. (Had they always existed)? Every time Ginny came around the trio she would wish her gone, no matter if she and Harry were getting along amicably. How did Hermione justify this strong emotion of not wanting Ginny near Harry? It was difficult and she had tried many times, always coming to the same conclusion: she didn't want him to get hurt. She felt an obligation to protect him from anything, _every_thing, that might harm him, and that included Ginny. It was like a sister wanting to defend her brother, much of what Ron always displayed when it came to Ginny.

Hermione liked this sibling related answer, but it failed to describe why she had never felt this way about Ginny before, or at least not to her knowledge. (_Because Harry didn't fancy her before! Because they broke up and it crushed his heart, a-and I don't want to see it crushed again! _she had often rationalized). It also failed to describe why she found herself looking at Harry for prolonged periods of time without anyone noticing. (_Because I'm worried about him! Can't someone look at someone else without it being a crime? He's my friend_)! In addition, it didn't precisely explain why she _liked_ looking at his face. (…. _no rationalization for that, I'm afraid_).

Thus, Harry made things more complicated than anticipated.

Hermione caught herself staring in the sink in a reverie, and shook her head. Lost in thought, again…. She sighed and moved back into the living room. Sometimes, recently, she wished she could simply clear her mind of all thought and emotion. Life would be much happier if she were blissfully ignorant, even _with_ Voldemort running amok. Hermione threw herself on the sofa, covering her eyes with a hand. Her cat was craftily stalking something on the ground.

Did she have feelings for Ron or not? Of course she did; that was obvious. Had she cared for him for awhile? Of course she had. It started third year and became somewhat serious fifth year. Did she think their relationship would be easy? Of course not; Ron drove her absolutely mad many times! They were opposites in so many ways and could anger one another such as no one or nothing else on Earth. Did she want to find out how they would work? Yes…. Was she afraid? Deathly. Did she wonder, sometimes, if she had feelings for Harry as well? Of course; she knew this. Hadn't she told Ginny she cared about him? Did she mean feelings _other _than friendship?... Possibly. Had she wondered for awhile? … Yes. Since fourth year. Did Hermione have any business of even _possibly_ harboring those kinds of feelings for Harry?

"Of course not," she groaned, slumping over.

Harry was not Ron! She felt for _Ron_, in that maddening, complex way of theirs! But that was it, wasn't it? With Ron it was so complex, so trying, so _arduous_. Harry was… was different. Entirely. Harry—

_Is not an option_! she screamed at herself. Hermione then began laughing. (Crookshanks peered at his master darkly before going back to his hunt, which led him out of the room). She wasn't even _sure _if those feelings for him were there, if they were even real! So it didn't matter! She could stop killing herself over it! Right?...

At what point had her best friends become more than just that? At what point had romance been thrown into the concoction? Things had been so much _easier _before she had decided to bring in other feelings that weren't platonic into the picture! Oh, to be eleven again….

Hermione stopped laughing sardonically and sat up, after a moment. Here she was, mulling over things like _this_ while the Dark Lord was terrorizing the wizarding world. _Way to have your priorities straight, dearie_, she told herself. She looked round for her pet after sighing and didn't see him.

"Crookshanks, come here. I'm done being insane," she called out.

"Sure about that?" replied a male voice. She looked sharply at the entrance of the room and saw pajama-clad Harry walk in. Crookshanks accompanied him, meowing.

"Harry! What are you doing up?" she pondered, hand instantly going to her hair. It wasn't at its best, and she immediately regretted him seeing it.

"I'll answer if you do."

"I'm always up, didn't you know? I'm lucky if I can sleep nowadays." Hermione told him wearily, looking to the right of her.

"Nice to know I'm not the only one. This is the first time I decided to get out of bed, however," he remarked. Harry then moved to sit next to her, on her right. She moved over to make room, though he had plenty. He sat closer than necessary, in her opinion.

"What've you been thinking about?" he asked.

"Everything," she scoffed, smirking.

"How ironic—so have I! That's not a subject one tends to think about often." She looked at him and laughed. She had always liked his unique sense of humor.

"Bill and Fleur are getting married tomorrow."

"I hadn't noticed." Harry joked, arms folded. She half-smiled and looked down at her fingers, picking at them.

"Seems kind of weird that something as normal as a wedding could take place, doesn't it?" he noted, after a short period of silence.

"Exactly." Hermione rather breathlessly agreed, looking up at him. He met her gaze.

"Hermione."

"Yeah?"

"What's going on with… with you and Ron?" She didn't answer. Instead, she resorted to staring at her hands again.

"I mean, I won't b-be… upset or anything. If you two want—" he began.

"Harry, don't," the Muggleborn advised. Her best friend frowned and turned to face her.

"What? Hermione, I—"

"You don't have to say anything, Harry. It's okay. We're… nothing's happening. We're friends… like always." _For now_…. Harry looked at her.

"Yeah?" he inquired, after more silence.

"Yes," she confirmed. He turned away from her and stared straight ahead like before, getting comfortable again.

"Right."

"Like you and I." Hermione softly noted.

"Like me and you," he mumbled. She looked at him and caught his eye. Harry grinned, and she smiled.

He then engaged her in conversation, and during their lengthy talk, Hermione fancied that Harry moved closer to her.

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A/N: So, it turned out longer than I expected and didn't end how I pictured it. Whatever! Anyway, I know I hinted at H/H, but if you read my profile you'd _know_ that was my favorite ship. It wasn't too much though, and I had to include Hermione's feelings for Ron in there because they can't be denied. 

Arthur only had two brothers, right? Bilius, the one who died, and the other. As for Gabrielle, well, she's in there. Lol. I forgot what I wanted to say about her.


	3. Diary of a Sad Werewolf

A/N: This fic is about Remus Lupin, my favorite marauder. Go Moony! Not much else to say, lol. I do know, however, that the fourth installment will be about Ginny. Anyway…

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**Diary of a Sad Werewolf**

Remus Lupin sat at the table in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, thinking, as he usually did.

Everything was in jumbles. More so than when Sirius had died, and _that _was saying something.

With Albus Dumbledore dead, life seemed to breaking at the seams in every way possible. If the entire wizarding world was a mess and up in arms, just imagine how the people who knew him were dealing with it…

Hideously, that was how.

No one had honestly expected something of that magnitude to happen and now they were trying to figure out how to take it in stride, along with keeping their guard up and fighting Voldemort. The Order of Phoenix was somewhat of a disaster at the moment and Lupin feared that it might collapse.

This was not what they needed.

Certain members of the Order, however, were still mourning the loss of Dumbledore (which they truly did not have time to do), rendering them rather useless, while others seemed to want to break away, for whatever their reasons. With himself and Minerva McGonagall serving as the unofficial replacements to the fallen, great wizard, matters had certainly multiplied in their difficulty.

With Dumbledore gone, the Ministry of Magic appeared to be much less willingly to cooperate with the Order, claiming they had, "Much more pressing issues to deal with, such as You-Know-Who's return!", or so related by Rufus Scrimgeour. Not only that, but it was getting notably hard to gather all of the members together. The ones who also had Ministry jobs were being worked twice as hard and others seemed rather reticent in being away from their families. Lupin understood they were afraid, but that was no reason to completely desert their obligations. He was frightened as well!

_Yes, but _you _have no family to worry over, do you?_

The werewolf, shocked at this thought within his head, shook it away and went jumped back on his original train of thought.

If… if the Order began to fall apart now, well, then, the wizarding world might as well surrender itself on a silver platter. Merlin knew the Ministry was incompetent! When this view was verbally given to the Order by McGonagall during a recent meeting, followed by the assurance that Dumbledore would _not _want them to crumble, it was partially shot down by one of the members.

"The Ministry may be hopeless, but… but that doesn't mean the situation is!" Dedalus Diggle proclaimed. There was silence as everyone turned to look at him. The headmistress of Hogwarts was gazing shrewdly at the man.

"Meaning _what_, precisely?" she wondered.

"Well…," he slowly began, "Harry, of course."

This prompted talk. Tonks and a newly married Bill Weasley looked at him disbelievingly while Remus, at the head of the room, felt anger beginning to well inside of him. What exactly did Diggle mean by that?!

Not a second later McGonagall voiced the same question.

"Quiet—quiet everyone!," she called. After the murmuring ceased, she sharply said, "I am assuming you mean Harry Potter, Dedalus."

"O-Of course…"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, only that we don't _need _the Ministry. The Order itself may even seem a bit pointless…. With Harry being the Chosen One—"

He did not get to finish due to the many outbursts.

"Are you mad?!" Tonks violently wondered.

"Silly man!" yelled Hestia Jones.

"How dare you!" McGonagall herself cried.

"You cannot _possibly _be that dense!" Kingsley Shacklebolt roared.

There was a loud popping noise and all of the wizards quieted, looking for the source. Lupin was standing up, wand in hand, with a quiet fury in his eyes.

"Please tell me, Dedalus, that you are not rationalizing riding of the Order because of Harry's apparent status as the alleged Chosen One," he stated. Diggle looked ashamed now.

"No, n-no, that's not what I—"

"Because to use that as an _excuse_ to cower is ridiculous! To think that Harry will take care of Voldemort, thus relieving us, is preposterous! We are _not _going to place this all on Harry and have no reason to! As a member of this organization I can't even believe that came out of your mouth—you _know_ better!"

They all seemed to think Lupin's speech was enough punishment because no one said anything else on the matter. Diggle, however, had turned scarlet and appeared to want to disappear. Several nasty looks were thrown at him before the meeting resumed.

Lupin sighed, conjuring himself a glass full of pumpkin juice spiced with a little firewhiskey.

Harry had surfaced as his main concern in life, besides staying alive. He had _always _cared and worried about James' son, undoubtedly, but since Dumbledore's death…. He did not want to suffocate Harry, make him feel uncomfortable, or run him off, so he often kept an eye on him from afar. Remus knew the boy was suffering more than anything. He also knew where Diggle's unwanted thought had come from, but he was not going to tolerate that kind of thinking. Yes, Harry _was _the one to defeat Voldemort, but that did not mean he had to do it alone and the werewolf would make sure he was with him as long as possible.

The door to the kitchen opened. Tonks walked in, smiling uncertainly.

An aspect of his life that he had not given the thought it deserved had just made itself known, and like usual his insides churned.

She sat left of him at the table and leaned over, kissing his cheek.

"All right?" she pondered.

"As much as I can be," he answered.

"What are you drinking?" the Metamorphmagus inquired, noticing his glass.

"Pumpkin juice."

"Special pumpkin juice?" He smiled quickly.

"Yes." Lupin honestly answered.

"Well that's good, because I've rather bad news Remus…"

He looked at her.

"Well, you know how Dedalus didn't show up to the last meeting but everyone assumed it was because he was still wounded from that dumb comment of his?" Tonks started.

"Yes."

"It appears he's gone missing," she relayed after a sigh, "He hasn't been seen for _well_ over a week. The last person to see or speak with him was Mad-Eye."

"Wonderful," he mumbled, running a hand over his eyes. She placed a hand on his arm, "Death Eater activity, is it?"

"In all probability."

"So that means they may kill him, if they haven't already. Wasn't the attack on Elphias enough?!" Before this occurrence, Elphias Doge had been attacked by Death Eaters which landed him in St. Mungo's, where he still resided. The Order saw it as Voldemort's response to their capture of two Death Eaters weeks before, whom had murdered themselves.

"McGonagall's already told the Minister, but—" Tonks noted.

"He doesn't seem to care?," finished Lupin, "No, of course not. He's other things to worry about with a dark wizard back at large, not even bothering to see that these two events, and plenty of others, could be connected!" Remus did not know at what point in the past he had resorted to sarcasm—it wasn't like him.

_Maybe not the old you…_

There was silence.

"How's Harry?" the man wondered. He asked this question constantly, never being the one who actually tracked his movements at Privet Drive. When Harry entered the wizarding world is was a different story, however.

"Still safe. Upset at being back after the wedding. For the most part fine, apart from being a teenager with a crazed sorcerer after your blood, or so Arabella tells it," she reported. He smiled, "You know he'll be 17 very soon, Remus. What then?" The werewolf had pondered this numerous times but could come up with a satisfactory answer.

"He'll want to leave his uncle's immediately, of course. He'll presumably go to the Burrow, or possibly come here. His safety will be jeopardized like you wouldn't believe," he sighed, closing his eyes.

There was a long silence yet again, full of grief.

"Everything is so _difficult_, Dora, so uncertain. Anything can happen," the werewolf said after the pause.

"I know." Tonks quietly sympathized, affectionately running a hand through his hair with sadness in her eyes.

"I don't… I don't know what to do." Lupin confessed.

"Oh, Remus—I don't know if any of us do."

* * *

A/N: I am going to make this perfectly clear: I do not like Remus and Tonks together. However, if I am going to be realistic then I cannot ignore them, just like I cannot ignore Ron & Hermione. JKR put it in the sixth book and so therefore it is real. On the other hand!, that doesn't mean I can't down play it, and believe me, down play it I will! 

I made Remus call Tonks 'Dora' because Nymphadora and Tonks both seem inappropriate. As for Diggle, Jones and Doge, they're not dead in the series right? Or missing or something like that? I hope not!...


	4. Seeing Red

A/N: Sorry about the long wait for this chapter. If it makes you feel any better, I wrote it all today! I was on a roll, ha ha.

* * *

**Seeing Red**

Life was not fair, and Ginny Weasley knew this better than anyone. It was not fair that she had grown up living in semi-poverty. It was not fair that she was the lone girl in a family of boys, having often times felt lonely and without a real companion. It was not fair that the world she knew was beginning to fall around her because a ruthless wizard had power once more. And it _definitely _was not fair that she had been in a relationship with the boy of her dreams only to have it taken away.

Ginny sat in the sunny backyard of the Burrow by herself, on the grass. Every so often her father would peek out a kitchen window to make sure she was okay; safety was a major concern presently. Bill's wedding had been a few days ago and he was currently in France with his wife and her family. They did not go on a honeymoon like a normal couple would have for it was too much of a risk. Voldemort had ruined life in so many ways.

A breeze came and caught some of the witch's long, red hair in its snare. Her mother and father were inside their house. Charlie was back in Romania for the time being on Order and dragon business, and Ron had gone with the twins to their shop for the day. And so Ginny was the only Weasley child at home, with her pet Arnold rolling around adorably on the grass before her. She wished Hermione were still at the Burrow to keep her company, but the brunette had gone home the day after the wedding. Ginny didn't know when she would return again.

But something had changed with Hermione, hadn't it? Yes, she was still friendly and would talk to Ginny willingly, but... but not as openly as before. Sometimes there were cold silences that they had never experienced before, not to mention the fact that Hermione appeared inexplicably _aggravated _when Ginny brought Harry up. She would make short replies or not answer at all. Hermione had become much more guarded, less warm... But since they all had so much on their plates now it was rather expected. And Hermione was so close with Harry-- she was going through what he was, to an extent.

This annoyed Ginny.

Oh, she knew this was Petty Ginny when she felt like this, and she knew she shouldn't, but it was undeniable. Harry had pushed her away for her own good but he hadn't done the same to Hermione!... or Ron. But her brother didn't count in her mind; his relationship with Harry was something completely different. Their bond did not bother her. It was Harry and Hermione.

Hadn't it always?

The feeling was not so strong, however, that it elicited feelings of ill will towards Hermione... no. Not even Petty Ginny was _that _petty. Their relationship merely bothered her and had always evoked a sense of longing within her. Ginny did not like to think that Harry was closer to Hermione than to her, but all of the evidence supported this thought. He had known the Muggleborn a year longer and had been her good friend way before he had even started _talking _to Ginny. She supposed that was her fault, though, for being terrified and enthralled by him for years on end. And maybe that was her mistake-- she had seen him as _the _Harry Potter instead of just Harry. And he had been just Harry to Hermione from the start.

Arnold squeaked and Ginny looked at him before going back to her thoughts. But Harry and Hermione were like brother and sister weren't they? Yes. And no sane brother and sister would suddenly develop feelings for each other right? Of course not!

_Hmm... but they aren't siblings, now are they?_ she airily wondered.

Why was Ginny even devoting time to these irrational thoughts?! Clearly she continued to be distraught by the breakup with Harry. They had been so _good _together, like it was destined to be! She had always dreamed of marrying Harry and joyously becoming Mrs. Potter, but for a minute it had seemed unbelievably possible.

Ginny knew Harry had been happy with her but didn't exactly know how _much_ he cared for her. They never really talked about their feelings in that much depth. (Thinking back, perhaps too much snogging had happened that prevented it!) Since they-- he-- had ended it, Harry had not really spoken to her either. His time at the Burrow for Fleur and Bill's wedding had been difficult indeed and he had tried to stay away from her as much as he could without seeming rude. She, on the other hand, had attempted to get him alone once or twice and actually managed it at the reception.

The wedding, smaller than desired in the bride's mind but genially accepted, had gone well. Mrs. Weasley and Declacour cried through most of it, and even Arthur had to hold back a tear. He sat in the front row on the left with his wife and three sons, while Harry and Hermione sat directly behind them in the next row. Ginny and Gabrielle, as bridesmaids, had worn a soft gold that brought out their beauty even more, while Charlie, a groomsman, only wore a gold tie. Standing on the side and holding her bouquet of flowers, Ginny felt somewhat overemotional (along with a few others). She could not stop thinking about Harry and had done her best to not look at him. This resolve was hard to maintain and when it finally broke and she glanced at him, she saw him staring at her-- staring at her like he used to during his sixth year. She quickly looked away and struggled not to blush. _She _wasn't the one getting married and so he shouldn't be watching her... but the fact that he was gave her hope. Hope to confront him.

_The sun was setting at the end of the ceremony, and a little while into the reception it had gone down. Luminous balls floated in the air as classical music came from an amplified wizard wireless. Ginny stood in the doorway of the kitchen's back door looking out at everyone else, sure she was the only one in the house. She had not changed and her hair was still up in the elegant style Fleur's cousin, Marie, had done. Many people had told her how lovely she looked, but the one wizard she wanted to talk to her hadn't said a word all day._

_Ginny saw Ron in his dress robes talking to Bill, who was watching Fleur dance with Mad-Eye. Remus and Kingsley were speaking with Molly, and McGonagall was strolling with Hagrid, Madame Pomfrey, and a co-worker of Bill. Where was Harry? She moved out a bit and spotted him to her right, past Fred and a male Delacour family member, at the most remote table outside. He sat on the top, looking forlorn yet handsome in his attire._

_Determined, she set in his direction and quickly bypassed everyone. He didn't notice her as she cautiously approached him from the left._

"_Ha... Harry," she quietly started, feeling unusually shy. She put her arms behind her. He looked to the source of the voice and saw her._

"_Oh... hey, Ginny..." he answered. It was quiet._

_Great. _Now _what to say? She couldn't very well come out and say what she wanted this soon-- she'd scare him away!_

"_Did... did you enjoy the wedding?" she asked._

"_Yeah. It was nice," Harry replied, playing with the table ornament. He glanced at her, "You look... great."_

"_Thanks." Ginny murmured, striving not to blush, again._

"_Another Weasley, yeah?" He was staring ahead of him like he had been doing before she came._

"_Yeah..." She was gazing at his face, sure he was aware of it. Her attention was then pulled towards the ornament moving between his hands. Before she knew it, her hand reached out and she had taken it away from him. His head whipped around to her._

"_Harry, why don't you talk to me?" Ginny pondered._

"_Because it's weird." Harry responded, dropping his eyes._

"_It's weird?"_

"_It's hard."_

"_Hard? Why?"_

"_You know why," he sighed._

"_But it doesn't have to be! We can go back to--" she began._

"_No we can't Ginny." Harry said firmly, looking into her eyes._

"_Why not?" This came out harshly. Tears were starting to form in her eyes._

"_I already told you why."_

"_Oh, yes, to _protect _me! There _has _to be more to it!" insisted Ginny._

"_There is."_

"_Then what is it?!"_

"_It's a lot of things Ginny, okay?!," he snapped, "It's complicated! We can't... it's in the past. Too many things have changed!" Harry was standing now and Ginny had let a few tears fall._

"_So do you regret it?" she questioned, voice low again. He looked at her and the anger fell away._

"_No, Ginny..." Harry sighed, closing his eyes._

"_All of those _things_ shouldn't get in the way of us Harry, no matter how big... not if you really cared about me." Her tears were coming more frequently now._

"_I did-- I _do_, Ginny." Harry told her, sounding somewhat heartbroken._

"_Then why can't we be together?" she sobbed, her chest hitching a bit. She felt silly crying while looking this made-up._

"_Ginny..." he quietly remarked, looking at her in a defeated manner._

"_I miss you," whispered Ginny, walking into his arms and shutting her eyes. Maybe she shouldn't have done it but she didn't care. She was finally telling him the truth, although he wasn't giving her much in return._

_He did not reply, but wrapped her in his embrace. She sniffed and pulled him closer. She wanted _this _back._

"_It won't work right now and you know it Ginny." Harry noted, close to her ear. _

"_Then when?" She pulled away to see his face but continued to hold on. She stared into his eyes. She needed an answer, needed to know that if she waited it wouldn't be in vain. She needed to know he cared about her as much as she did him._

_But Harry wasn't answering her-- he was returning her gaze. They had not let go of one another. Ginny saw his eyes drop to her lips for a moment and she felt her heart stop. Oh, how she had missed kissing Harry! When he looked back into her eyes she conveyed to him that she knew what he was thinking, and did not oppose at all. She moved her head a bit closer and stepped a little closer to him. His gaze fell quickly to her lips once more before returning to her face, which was nearer to his. They could hear each other's breath. Was this happening? Would this fix everything? Ginny nodded faintly to Harry, encouraging him to go on. _

"_Oh. Um. I..." someone hurriedly said, who was in close proximity to them. As Harry let go of her at the sound of a voice, they looked up and saw Hermione, who was behind Ginny a couple of feet. Damnit! The moment that Ginny had been _dying_ for had just been ruined! And by Hermione, nonetheless! She stood there looking uncomfortable but pretty with straightened hair, and wearing a calm yellow. _

_Harry looked at Hermione, glanced at Ginny, and then walked off without saying anything or waiting to hear if his best friend had anything to say. And it appeared she did, for she opened her mouth and put up her hand, looking concerned, as if to call after him. _

_Ginny was furious and devastated all at once. The chance, gone, out the window! She had _had_ him! Tears sprung forth once again but this time they were from frustration. She glared at Hermione, letting her know this was entirely _her_ fault, and then hurried back towards the house, gritting her teeth. She was going to stay in her room for the remainder of the day._

That had been the last real time she had spoken to Harry or Hermione, for they both went to their respective homes the following day. Ginny now regretted not speaking with Hermione about the incident. She may have understood, may have been able to talk to Harry and see what he felt about it, because as of now, she felt like all was hopeless and she would never speak to Harry again, let alone be with him.

"Ginny! You have an owl dear! It's from Luna!" Molly called from the doorway of the kitchen.

The girl looked behind her at her mother.

"All right," she responded.

Ginny Weasley then stood up, scooped Arnold into her hands, and walked back to the Burrow.

* * *

A/N: Another chapter that didn't end as planned. Ah well. The next one will be in either Ron or Harry's POV... I'm thinking Harry's... 


	5. A Summer's Day

A/N: So, it's been something like 4387 years since I posted a new chapter in this fic. Ha ha! Sorry. If it is any consolation, school can be a biznitch. That, and I have like the next four parts lined up for **One Last Day** (in my head). Anyway, this one is from Ron's POV. Go Ron!

* * *

**A Summer's Day**

Ron watched listlessly as Pig flew above his head energetically, twitting and hooting in his small voice. Whichever way his owl suddenly darted the teenager's eyes would follow obediently. The youngest Weasley son had been lifelessly observing the flying ball of energy for the past 20 minutes in the same exact position: slumped on his bed with his back against the wall.

One might wonder why a perfectly able-bodied seventeen year old wizard with a close knit circle of friends was sitting in his room on a nice summer evening, bored out of his mind. Well, when your world was being sufficiently terrorized by a murderer on a power trip it wasn't exactly safe to be young.

This was turning out to be the worst summer Ron had ever had. It was practically halfway over and the highlight of it had been his oldest brother's wedding. He had only hung out with his best friends once so far and that had been for Bill's ceremony. He felt disconnected from them, and during a time like this it hurt more than usual. He was alone, bored and deprived of real information on what was happening with Voldemort; Harry and Hermione would pacify all of those. It would not have been a problem for the three of them to get information from the Order or Ministry about Voldemort, even if they had to obtain it unrightfully and craftily (though they did this all the time and were skilled at it). But without Harry's influence and Hermione's brain, Ron only knew what the _Prophet _reported and what he could drag out of well-known Order members. Normally being in the loop, this was frustrating.

It was also frustrating that he had, so far, spent all of the vacation at the Burrow. No Grimmauld Place, no Hogwarts, no Hogsmeade—hell, hardly Diagon Alley. Ron had routinely brought this fact up to his parents, angry with being in one set place for so long, and they answered with a word he was beginning to find stupid (if only out of the restriction it was placing on him): safety. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, like so many others, were extremely worried about the safety of their loved ones. With Voldemort showing no signs of letting up on his destructive actions, every magical site was vulnerable and, therefore, not safe. When he noted that the rest of his brothers had free range to roam they replied that the other four (excluding Percy) had legitimate reasons. Bill had just wed and was in the Order, Charlie handled dragons and was a member as well, and Fred & George ran a business while doing minor tasks for the Order. When Ron pointed out that he was of age and could leave if he truly wanted to, they reluctantly agreed but hoped he would see they were only worried about him and wanted to keep him out of harm's way. (A part of him felt as if his parents also thought he still wasn't as capable of taking care of himself like his brothers, thought they still had a say in what he did because he had a year of school left, and because they wanted him to keep Ginny company). When he morosely mumbled that if he were going to be kept immobile he could at least have his friends to find solace in, Arthur and Molly responded it was not prudent for them to be away from their homes either, traveling constantly—especially not Harry. With only days until he turned 17, he needed all of the protection from his mother that he could get.

Harry's kin were making plans as to what to do when July 31st finally arrived. He would be of age, no longer protected, likely to do something brash and be the (possible) immediate target of his nemesis. Remus and a few other Order members had come to the Burrow a few days earlier to discuss certain matters. Ron happened to walk into the kitchen for food when the subject of Harry's birthday was being vocalized. Shacklebolt had suggested a party be at Privet Drive to pick the Chosen One up and take him to the Black residence, but Ron, knowing Harry did not want to step foot in that house again if he could help it, had blurted out that they should bring him to the Burrow. After uncomfortable stares that came from the surprise of his presence (and a glower from his mother), murmurs of consent came. Why not? Let the wizard be in the company of the ones who cared for him the most (and would keep him under surveillance like an eighth child). Satisfied with his deed Ron went back to his room, but not without the food he came for.

He had successfully devised a plan to see Harry and now just had to get Hermione over to the Burrow as well. It wouldn't be too difficult however, because wherever the two boys were Hermione had to be there also, and everyone knew this. (They were a _trio_)! Ron had already let Hermione know about the proposition through Muggle mail, at her insistence that owls and other means of magical communication weren't safe, and she appeared all for it. Now all they needed was a definite yes from the adults in their lives and a pre-determined plan on how to get her to the Weasley home. (A portkey or Apparition at a certain place with a waiting Order member to accompany her the rest of the way was most likely). Ron wanted to see his female best friend more than he ever remembered for any other vacation, and knew exactly why. Yes, it was terrible timing and yes, they had still yet to sit down and actually say so, but he and Hermione's feelings for one another were known.

Even if he couldn't act on them fully in the form of a relationship, he could still explore them and continued to have hope that they would be tended to at a later date. The knowledge that Hermione most likely felt something for Ron as well excited him to the point that he constantly wanted to see her. Finally! After so long! He did, consequently, feel guilty and selfish for thinking like this while his best friend was going through hell at the moment. This was a large factor as to why the redhead was not pursuing anything with Hermione in greater depth—how uncaring would he come off as a best mate?! Not only that, but he _still_ needed to discuss… all of this with the object of his long held desire. And he hadn't done that because of the first factor…. Fate could be so cruel.

Ron had almost discussed his predicament with Harry the last time he had been at the Burrow, or at least admit to the Potter boy that he cared for their best friend in _that _way. Harry had a right to know, and something told the pureblood his friend already had a hunch. Ron knew he was still afraid to talk to his best friend about it because he didn't have the slightest inkling as to how he would react, however. Anger, confusion, being upset… would he feel left out or deserted? Ron knew _he _certainly would have if Harry came to him claiming he liked Hermione (but that thought wasn't even conceivable). Besides, throwing romantic emotions and relationships in Harry's face after his breakup with Ginny was unkind. The youngest Weasley boy personally thought it would be good for Harry if he renewed his status with his sister but was practically certain this wasn't going to happen anytime soon—the dark-haired wizard had told Ron he couldn't risk it with Voldemort out there. And with Harry not with Ginny the possibility of Ron and Hermione was not likely; if the former two were a couple then the latter two would not be seen as odd or out of the blue. If Harry could have feelings for Ginny and everyone be okay with it then Ron could do the same for Hermione! But… these were merely what ifs, not definites.

Who would have imagined life would have changed so drastically in six years?!

Pig had begun doing cartwheels in the air when Ron's door opened. His gaze went from his pet to the entrance, where his sister stood.

"Busy, I see," she dully noted, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"As usual," he replied, not moving from his slump.

"Do you think you can break yourself away from your obviously important meeting with Pig to play chess with me? I know I'll lose but even that's more thrilling than being in my room."

"Did dad leave for Grimmauld Place?"

After dinner earlier that night at which only Molly, Arthur and their two youngest children were present, Mr. Weasley announced he was going to headquarters because he was needed.

"Yeah," Ginny answered, "Fred and George said they'd try to come by and stay the night." He nodded, hoping they would; it got so unbearably boring in the house with no one around.

"All right." Ron sighed, getting up from his position. The tiny owl must have taken movement from his master as a sign because he shot out of the room twittering madly.

"Mental prat," he remarked, shaking his head.

"At least _he_'s keeping a good mood," she responded, giving a half smile.

* * *

Their twin brothers did not come by the Burrow that night. Both were disappointed but did not talk about it; instead, they played chess in the sitting room for six games while their mother knit in a chair, playing the Wireless. It was awfully reminiscent of them being nine (and a half) and eight again, being the only children in the house with Molly while their brothers were at Hogwarts and their father was at work. Arthur came home at around eleven o'clock and his wife was much relieved. (Every time he went out she fretted). Ron went to sleep at a quarter 'til midnight, thinking if he had to go through the rest of the summer like this he'd lose his mind. He just wanted Harry to become of age already; when he did, things would take a very different turn. And whenever he decided to start the journey for the Horcruxes Ron, and Hermione, would be right by his side, whether or not Hogwarts was opening for the students. (They would have the answer to that in August after a meeting amongst the school's board members, McGonagall, Scrimgeour and a few from the Wizengamot and Order took place). That dangerous but vital mission was coming soon…

The next morning Ron awoke right before nine o'clock only to find Pig asleep in his left sneaker. He went downstairs to eat the breakfast Molly had prepared an hour earlier and re-heated it with his wand, after a kiss on the cheek from his mother. Ginny had been up for 20 minutes and was taking her last bite as he sat down.

"Ron, I was telling your sister that I was planning on going to see your great Aunt Serebella today. Do you want to come?" Mrs. Weasley pondered.

Ron normally avoided seeing that woman whenever possible. He had bad childhood memories of visits to her house and he was convinced she was mean enough to be a blood relative of Salazar Slytherin. He looked at Ginny and she nodded, shrugging. _Might as well—nothing else to ever do. And at least she's letting us out._

"A-All right, mum," he agreed.

"Good. I know she'll be happy to see you two."

"Doubt it." This was covered up by him putting food into his mouth.

A moment later, Fred, George and Tonks came walking into the kitchen.

"George, Fred!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Boys! Tonks, dear!" said Molly, notably surprised. Ron gulped his food down and grinned. Finally—fun. However, none of the three who were normally very jovial, looked very jovial.

"Mum." George commented, kissing her cheek. Fred looked at Ginny somberly.

"Is… something wrong?" Ron asked, sensing something was.

"We've got bad news. Happened this morning, at around seven o'clock." Tonks announced in a hurry, looking distressed.

"What? What happened?" Molly wondered, voice hollow. Ron stood up, suddenly tense. They expected things like this to happen, but when they did it was surreal.

"There was an attack. Death Eaters. Aurors and Order members got there as soon as we knew and could." Fred reported seriously.

"They haven't told us anything more yet—still over there." Tonks added.

"Ron, Gin—" George started, moving towards her. His twin looked solemnly at Ron.

"What? Why are you looking at us?," she questioned, hand gripping the back of her chair and standing up, "What?!"

"It was Dean Thomas' family!" Tonks exasperatedly said, staring at Ron. He felt as if he suddenly went deaf as he tried to find his chair to drop in, with the last thing he heard being a scream come from Ginny.

* * *

A/N: Next part will be from Tonks' view, and I am looking forward to getting it on paper. (You'll see why :) After that will come Harry's POV, finally. I wonder if you all have been thinking when I would get to the main character...

Btw, totally made up their aunt Serebella.


	6. When Dora Met Remus

A/N: So, I am posting again a month after the last installment… not bad, not bad! The next "chapter", the one from Harry's POV, will be up most likely within the next week. Anyway, this is about Tonks' but with a little twist :)

* * *

**When Dora Met Remus**

She was four years old when she first met him, the tall boy with the light brown hair and sad, but attractive, smile. He was the same age as her cousin (who home she was at when she encountered said boy), which meant he too was significantly old, and they were in their last year at the magic school. (Seventeen and eighteen were as old as time to a four year old witch). However, little Tonks didn't remember this when she laid eyes upon the Gryffindor student who happened to be a werewolf; what she remembered was that this boy was very nice to look at, somehow different from any other person she had met previously, and made her small heart flutter.

Nymphadora, or Dora as she made everyone call her, was on a trip to her cousin Sirius' house with her mother Andromeda. Sirius and Andromeda were very close and she hadn't been to his new flat since he had gotten it. Dora happily agreed to go with her mother because she really enjoyed being around her cousin Sirius (and if she hadn't gone who knows when she would have met the love of her life).

When the two females first arrived at the spacious apartment Sirius was the only one there.

"Andromeda!" the teenager hailed, opening the door.

"Sirius," she replied, grinning. The two hugged.

"Hi Sirius!" Dora shouted, pulling on his pant leg.

"Dora!," He let go of the girl's mother and picked her up, "How are you?"

"Pretty!" she responded, smiling. Sirius laughed.

"Well, not the answer I was expecting…"

"Ugh, you're rubbing off on her." Andromeda noted, walking in.

"I resent that! I do not go around bragging about my insanely good looks…" he said, closing the door with a silent spell and following. His older cousin huffed and looked at him disbelievingly.

"You didn't let me finish!," Sirius exclaimed, eyes laughing, "I do not brag _often_!" He set Dora down, but not before handing her a Galleon.

"Thank you!" she responded, staring at it in wonder.

"Sirius, that's a lot of money for a four year old." Andromeda noted.

"I'm almost five!" Dora insisted, furrowing her brows at her mother. He snickered while she frowned, although it still held good humor.

"Well, your flat seems very nice," she told him, going into the kitchen.

"Yeah, and you haven't been upstairs yet!"

"How many bedrooms?"

"Two. And a half. I'm thinking of magically expanding it to have three." Sirius reported. Andromeda went into the hall to see the master bedroom and bathroom.

"Not a bit much for a kid still in school?" she wondered.

"Not if it gets that kid away from his _foul _family," he grumbled. Dora looked up at him, not really following what they were saying but sensing the change in his voice.

"But I suppose you _are _of age!" The witch came back into the living room, smiling. He looked up at her, coming from his momentary dark stupor.

"Exactly." Sirius smiled.

"So how is Regulus?" she asked, sitting on a couch. Dora climbed up next to her.

"Just fine! Or rather, he _looks _fine from across the hall at school…"

"Still not speaking to him I see."

"When's the last time you sat and had a lovely tea with _your _sisters?" he pondered, smirking.

"Touche." Andromeda grinned.

"How is Ted?"

"Oh, brilliant! He's at work at the moment."

"Yes, daddy's at work." Dora confirmed, nodding. She then sat back, concentrating, and made her hair turn into a deep green. Sirius laughed.

"I have to beg her to not change in public. I don't want everyone knowing she's a Metamorphmagus, in case there's someone out there willing to exploit her," explained Andromeda.

"Well it is an amazing gift," he said.

"So, can you believe you're almost done at Hogwarts?" He shrugged.

"Not really looking forward to leaving the castle, especially if it means going into a world terrorized by… Voldemort." (He had mouthed the dark wizard's name for Dora's sake).

"Yeah, can't exactly forget about him can you?" she commented.

"The good thing is we'll be able to officially fight against him, and all his brainless, wanker followers."

"And by we'll you mean—"

"Me and James," Sirius clarified, grinning, "Aurors."

"What about your other two friends?" Andromeda asked.

"Remus would like to work for the Ministry, but with his furry little problem who's to say, which is completely unfair. And as for Peter—eh. I'm sure he mentioned what he wanted to do but I was probably too busy breathing to pay much attention."

"I know how to breathe!" Dora exclaimed. Her mother giggled.

"Of course you do, love."

"Oh! Right! Speaking of the Marauders, they're coming over, pretty soon actually. Have to celebrate the last hours of winter vacation together before it's back to Hogwarts and looking at Snivellus' hideous face the day after next!" he remarked.

"Snivellus, ha ha," the four year old giggled, "What a funny name!"

"Yes, and he's a funny wizard Dora! Funny looking, funny smelling…"

"Sirius." Andromeda stated, slightly sternly.

"What? I'm just being honest."

Just then an annoying, bird like call sounded in the living room. The Tonks' both made faces.

"May I suggest a new doorbell?" his older cousin commented.

"You may!" Sirius brightly answered, going to his door. Dora jumped off the couch and followed her cousin excitedly.

"Let me answer it!" she demanded.

"Well go ahead little Tonks," he offered. Dora grabbed the doorknob and pulled it in, only to reveal three teenage boys on the other side.

"Why Padfoot, you've shrunken!" the tall one with the black hair and glasses noted, looking at the girl.

"Yeah, now I'm the same size as Peter." Sirius responded.

"Shutup!" Peter, the shortest, mumbled, half-smiling as the last one laughed.

"I'm not Padfoot!" Dora insisted.

"I know who you are, _Dora_." James smiled, patting her cheek and walking in. Yes, she remembered this one because he was the only one she had seen before. He was funny and kind, just like Sirius.

"Whose… kid?" pondered Peter as he walked in.

"Mine." Andromeda remarked from the sofa. He looked up, startled.

"Meda!" James stated, grinning.

"James! You know I hate it when you call me that," she replied in a sweet voice.

"It's the only reason I do," he revealed in a tone that matched hers.

"Moony, Wormtail—_the _Andromeda Tonks." Sirius introduced as the door closed once again.

"Hello." Peter nodded.

"Nice to finally meet Sirius' favorite family member," the last one told her, shaking her hand.

"You as well. It's nice to see the other half of the infamous Marauders, though, I get the feeling you two aren't as unruly as my cousin and his lovely mate," the woman relayed warmly.

"Remus here gets more unruly than we could ever _dream _of once a month." James smartly pointed out, making the Lupin boy blush.

"And be careful of what you call Prongs, Andromeda. He's a taken man, and anything too endearing may be construed as…" Sirius began, smirking.

"Oh, really? With the witch he's been after for years?" she questioned. All three of his friends laughed.

"Just how much do you tell her Black?" James inquired, not looking as amused as the others.

"Come off it James! It's common knowledge you were _obsessed _with Ev—Lily!" Sirius chuckled.

"And for so long! I'm sure he told her about it _ages _ago." Remus added.

"Yeah, that was when you lot were 14." Andromeda pointed out.

"Well that makes me feel _loads_ better!," James sarcastically claimed as they laughed again, "And why is the mocking attention on me?! Wormtail, do something."

Peter quit laughing and leered at James as Sirius snorted. Dora, whom had stood by the door the entire time, moved from her spot and slowly walked to her mother. She got the attention of the other five without trying.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" the fully grown witch questioned when her daughter stopped and buried her head in her mother's legs.

"Are you okay Dora?" James wondered. Peter looked uncertainly at Remus. She wasn't speaking.

"Dora? Are you upset?," tried Sirius, "Do you want to see something funny? Huh?" Remus was looking at her with a worried expression. Sirius hit Peter on the arm lightly and commanded:

"Turn into a rat for her."

"No! That'll make her cry, not laugh!" James remarked.

"Nice to know you think so highly of my form, _Prongs_!" Peter said.

What they did not know was that she was not upset, but nervous. She had been staring at Remus the moment he had stepped inside the flat and had only been able to stop now. At four she thought he was the most beautiful person she had ever seen, and because she was so young, the extremity of it was appropriate. Her age also warranted her liking many people she came in contact with, but he was different for the little witch. He elicited something in her that not even _Sirius _did! Of course, these complex thoughts did not formulate in Dora's mind like this. All she knew was this boy, Remus, had struck her somehow, so suddenly, that if she never saw him again it'd break her little heart. This noted, she had to say something to show him that although she had just met him, he was now on her list of vital people in (her) life, which only included two other people: her parents! He was that special.

Dora removed her head and looked up at her mother for confidence.

"There's my girl," smiled Andromeda. The little witch detached herself and moved in front of her adored.

"Hi. I'm Dora," she announced, putting her small hand out. Remus looked taken aback initially as everyone else chuckled in relief, knowing she was just fine. He glanced at his friends and then a welcoming smile lit his face.

"Why hello Dora. I'm Remus. It's very nice to meet you," he commented, shaking her hand. Dora grinned.

* * *

A/N: So I want to write about the Marauders again—it's very fun. I love them! Anyway, hope you liked it. I just thought it'd be cute. Next up is Harry himself, and that'll be pretty long. 


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